From Passion to Paychecks: How I Became a Corporate Ghost

Today, I sat in yet another meeting where I felt like a ghost. My ideas were barely acknowledged, my presence felt like a footnote in a document no one bothers to read. As I stared at my screen, I realized something: I’ve spent 18 years climbing a ladder to a place I’m not even sure I want to be anymore. And now that I’m here, I don’t recognize the view—or myself.

I’m burnt out, but not the “I need a spa day” kind of burnt out. This is the “I’m a hollow shell of a human being” kind of burnt out. The kind that makes you question every life choice that led you to this exact moment. How did I get here? How did I become the ringmaster of this circus, fighting for scraps of recognition while perpetually waiting for the other shoe to drop—only to discover it’s a steel-toed boot laced with disappointment, aimed squarely at my head?

The truth is, I didn’t wake up one day and decide to feel this way. It happened slowly, over time, until the reality of where I am literally smacked me in the face. A reality built on a toxic mix of corporate jargon, endless Slack notifications, and the crushing weight of my own expectations.

When I started my career, I was full of passion and optimism. I loved solving problems, building products, and working with customers to create something meaningful. I thrived on the chaos and the challenge of turning vague ideas into actionable plans. But somewhere along the way, my spark faded. The constant pressure to deliver, the endless cycle of demands, and the soul-crushing realization that I’m just another replaceable part of a system I no longer believe in, has slowly drained the life out of me.

And then there’s the other side of my life—the one where I’m a mom to three amazing kids, ages 21, 15, and 2. Yes, you read that right: a 2-year-old. Just when I thought I was done with diapers and sleepless nights, life handed me a beautiful, chaotic surprise. My youngest, who is nonverbal and has level 3 autism, has brought a whole new layer of love, challenges, and chaos into our lives. Balancing motherhood—especially the unique needs of my toddler—with a demanding career has felt like trying to juggle flaming swords while riding a unicycle on a tightrope. Some days, I pull it off. Most days, I’m running around with some part of me on fire.

But here’s the thing: I’m not writing this to complain. Okay, maybe I am a little. But mostly, I’m writing this because I know I’m not alone. If you’re reading this, maybe you’ve felt it too—the exhaustion, the frustration, the quiet voice inside you whispering, “There has to be more to life than this.”

So, where do I go from here? Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. But I do know this: I’m hitting pause. I’m stepping back to reevaluate what I want from my career, my life, and myself. I’m done running on autopilot. It’s time to take back control, to rediscover the passion I once had, and to create a life that feels meaningful—or at least less like a huge dumpster fire.

This blog is my space to figure it all out. It’s where I’ll share my journey—the highs, the lows, and the messy in-between. It’s where I’ll explore what it means to be a mom, a professional, and a human being in a world that often feels like it’s designed to make us fail.

If any of this resonates with you, I hope you’ll stick around. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that we’re all a work in progress. And that’s okay. Here’s to hitting pause, taking a deep breath, and unraveling how I even got here in the first place.